December 2003
"I still don't see why George can't come along," Fred muttered petulantly as he laced up his trainers.
Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. She finished securing her hair into a single plait and sat down on the bed beside him.
"Because my dad wants to spend the day with you," Hermione said for the hundredth time that morning. She summoned her shoes and slipped them on. "Why are you so nervous about this? My dad likes you."
"I've just been getting this weird vibe and I don't quite know how to explain it."
Hermione's parents had come to England for the Christmas and New Year's holidays. Since their arrival, she and Fred had spent a lot of time with them, but always together or with a group of Weasleys. Today, Boxing Day, Hermione was seizing the opportunity of having her mum around and, along with Molly, Ginny, Fleur, and Victoire, they were going to Diagon Alley to pick out a wedding dress.
"He's just getting to know you, sweetheart," she assured, running a hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch and she smiled. "Up until now, he hasn't really had the chance to interact with you much. Now that you're going to be part of the family he's trying to bond a bit."
"Does his idea of bonding include tossing me off a cliff and making it look like an accident?"
"Don't be so dramatic," she said kissing his head and standing up. "And remember, you're a wizard. If he throws you off a cliff, the spell is Arresto Momentum."
"Thanks for the support, love," Fred sighed.
Hermione was about to respond but a knock on the door interrupted her.
"They're here." She kissed the top of his head again and went to answer the door.
Her parents were waiting on the other side. Her mother's smile hadn't left her face since Hermione had met her at the airport a week ago. She was so excited to plan the wedding. The speed that she and Molly had spoken during Christmas dinner was mind-boggling. The two women were clearly in their element. A day of trying on wedding dresses with them was bound to be exhausting.
"Hello, darling!" Margaret Granger greeted, pulling her daughter in for a hug. "I'm so excited to find you a dress! Where's Fred?" she asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder.
"Yes, where is your young man?" Jonathan Granger asked, stepping into the flat behind his wife. He set a rucksack on the floor, by his feet.
"He's just finishing getting ready," Hermione assured, kissing her father's cheek. "What do you have planned for the day?"
"It's a surprise," Jonathan answered gruffly.
"Dad, you will be nice, won't you?" Hermione asked in a low voice, locking her father's eyes with hers.
"Don't worry, Mimi. We're going to get along just fine."
"Oh, Circe," Hermione moaned at the mention of her childhood nickname. She covered her face and said urgently, "Please, don't let anyone else hear you call me that. They'll never let me hear the end of it."
"Too late, darling," Fred called from the hall. A second later he appeared in the living room with a smirk. "Already heard it." He grabbed his jacket from the hook by the fireplace and shrugged it on. "I promise I won't tell anyone though. Hello, Doctor Granger," he said, nodding to Jonathan, "and Doctor Granger," he continued, with a nod at Margaret.
"Please, Fred, call us John and Maggie," Margaret insisted.
Fred was leaning down to give Hermione a kiss when Jonathan cleared his throat, causing Fred to jump back a meter and stand up straight.
"You two share a room?" Jonathan questioned, his eyes drilling into Fred's mortified face.
"Dad!" Hermione cried, at the same time her mother scolded, "Now, really John!"
"Don't mind him, dear," Margaret said, patting Fred's arm. "He has no room to judge. The things we got up to when we were dating weren't all that innocent either."
"Mum!"
Hermione looked at her mother and father in disbelief. She was pretty certain her face was the same shade of crimson that Fred's was currently sporting.
"I think this is a perfect place to end this conversation," Hermione finally said. She grabbed her coat and purse and turned to Fred. "It will be fine," she said softly, pulling on her gloves. "Just remember, Arresto Momentum."
Fred finally smiled at her and nodded. He leaned down to her ear and whispered, "I really want to kiss you goodbye, but I'm slightly terrified to at the moment."
Hermione took his face in her hands and kissed his lips. "I love you. Have fun."
"I'll give it a go," Fred sighed.
A horn beeped outside and Hermione patted his hand. "That's the taxi. We'll see you tonight." She gave his cheek one last kiss and followed her mother out the door and down to the street.
"Where to, ladies?" the driver asked.
"Charing Cross Road, please," Hermione said, clicking her belt into place. She leaned her head back and sighed, "It's nice being driven somewhere for a change." Letting her head loll to the side, she looked at her mum and asked, "Where's Dad taking Fred? He isn't planning on going down to Dover, is he?"
"Dover? No, I don't believe so," Margaret answered. "I honestly don't know, dear. He wouldn't even tell me this morning."
"He likes Fred, right?"
"Of course! He's a wonderful man and we're so happy for you two," her mum gushed, patting her hand.
"I just never saw him act like that before. I hope he doesn't terrify Fred and send him running for the hills."
Margaret let out a cackle. "Oh, honey! After spending time with the Weasley family, I'm betting it'll take much more than your father to scare that boy. He just wants to get to know Fred better."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Fred smiled as Hermione and her mum left the flat. He looked over at Jonathan Granger, forcing his smile to remain in place. It was a bit of a feat.
Of the two doctors, Hermione's looks most favored her mother. The chestnut curls, a small, yet commanding stature, and her adorable upturned nose all mirrored Maggie Granger. The eyes, though... Fred had seen the stare currently locked on him several times before from his fiance when he had not been in her good graces.
It wasn't often that Fred felt awkward and intimidated around people, but, left alone with Jonathan and his appraising gaze, he felt as though he was having a minor panic attack. His heart was beating so hard and erratic, he wouldn't be surprised if it burst from his chest right into Jonathan's waiting hands.
Jonathan picked up his rucksack, slung it over his shoulder and motioned to Fred. "That floo thing of yours go to Birmingham?"
"Yes, sir. Where to in Birmingham?" Fred asked, summoning his coat.
"As close as we can get to the Bordesley District," he answered, striding to the fireplace.
"When I go in for supplies, I usually apparate," Fred thought aloud. It was frowned up to bring Muggles on side-along apparition though. He frantically searched his memory of the Floo Network. "I think there's a wizarding section in the rail station."
"Perfect, let's go," Jonathan instructed.
Fred quickly nodded and tossed some powder into the fireplace and called out, "Bordesley Railway Station," then motioned for Jonathan to step through. Once the green flames swallowed him up, Fred paused for a few moments, pumping up his courage, before following.
Before that week, Fred had had very few personal interactions with Hermione's parents and all of those mainly took place during their Hogwarts days, shopping in Diagon Alley. Post-war, Hermione had been able to restore her parents' memories, but by that time Margaret and Jonathan had established a successful dentistry practice in Australia and chose to continue living there, which meant that their visits to England were few and far between and Fred had been left to get to know them through weekly telephone calls. When Fred had talked to Jonathan about his proposal plans, the man had been happy to give his blessing and welcome him to the family. Fred was now starting to think that maybe he had dreamed that entire conversation...
When Fred stepped into the station, he couldn't see Jonathan anywhere. As he frantically looked around, a thick Brummie accent called out to him.
"Oy! You with that big Muggle that just come through?"
"Yeah, did you see where he went?"
"Aye, he headed straight through the barrier, to the ticket counter."
"Thanks!"
Fred hurried through to the Muggle section and found Jonathan walking away from the ticket counter.
"Hold on to these for a second," Jonathan said, passing the tickets to Fred. Fred hesitantly took them and watched as Jonathan opened up his pack and started pulling out blue scarves and hats. "Here ya go," he said, passing Fred a set.
Fred unfolded the scarf and puzzled over the letters B.C.F.C. and what appeared to be a picture of the Earth above a Muggle football. The knitted hat had a similar picture, but with BIRMINGHAM on the front.
"What are these for?" Fred asked. He followed Jonathan's lead and pulled on the hat, then wrapped the scarf around his neck.
"For watching the footie. Here's our train." Jonathan motioned to the carriages that were screeching to a halt.
They had to travel through three carriages before finding two seats together. Once they had settled in, Fred looked around at the other Muggles and saw that they were all wearing similar blue and white accessories. A few men had their faces painted half blue and half white. Despite the cold weather, several women were clad in tight, revealing shirts, with B.C.F.C embroidered across the chest.
As quietly as possible, so as not to draw attention to his cluelessness, Fred asked, "Are we going to an actual football match?"
"We are indeed. The Blues are going up against Manchester City. Should be a cracking match," Jonathan answered, a smile spreading across his face for the first time that day. "You ever been to one?"
"No, George and I have talked about going, but have never got around to actually buying tickets. Cor, he's gonna be right jealous when I tell him about it tonight." Fred grinned and leaned back in his seat, finally starting to feel comfortable with his future father-in-law.
"Sorry for making you sweat a bit back there," Jonathan said, giving Fred a nudge and grinning. "Hermione's my only child. It's the only chance I'll get to play the scary, overprotective father." His grin suddenly disappeared and his eyes narrowed on Fred. "It will be the only time, right?"
"Yes, sir," Fred answered quickly, throwing up in hands in defense. "I'd rather chuck myself off the astronomy tower than do anything to hurt Min!"
Jonathan chuckled and clapped Fred on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Freddy. Hermione is crazy for ya and she's one of the best judges of character I know. Maggie and I are happy to have you in the family."
"Thank you, Doctor Granger."
"Fred, are we in the middle of a dental exam right now?"
"I don't believe so, sir, but then again I'm not entirely sure what a dental exam is."
Jonathan guffawed loudly and shook his head. "Unless I'm pulling one of your teeth, please, call me John."
"Okay, John," Fred agreed.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"I've forgotten how amazing this place is," Margaret said in awe, as she and Hermione passed the storefronts of Diagon Alley. "Can we stop by the boys' shop afterward? We've been here a week and I still haven't seen it."
"Of course," Hermione answered, slowing her pace as they approached their destination. "It'll probably be quite crowded with kids clamoring to spend their Christmas money, but you'll get the full effect of the shop."
Hermione had felt horrible for George when Fred had told him he wouldn't be there for Boxing Day. The poor man was going a bit mental with the busy holiday season in full swing and his very pregnant wife's due date fast approaching. He was handling it better than most would, though, and Angelina had taken a page from Ginny's pregnancy and happily helped out by taking up the position behind the till. It helped a lot that they had broken down that year and hired some part-time, seasonal help.
The two women stopped outside the door of a store called The Wedded Witch, a still relatively new shop in Diagon Alley. They specialized in both traditional wedding robes, but also Muggle wedding dresses.
Several weeks earlier, during the usual Weasley Sunday dinner, Molly had procured her wedding robes from the attic and told Hermione that she was more than welcome to wear them as her 'something borrowed'. Fred had earned himself a smack by commenting that the robes could also double as her 'something old'.
Hermione could see the appeal of the robes decades ago, but it was far from the style she had in mind and politely declined the offer. They reminded her too much of Ron's dress robes from the Yule Ball, and just the thought of the high lace collar had made her neck itch and sweat.
"Oh, this looks lovely," Margaret said, looking up at the dress in the front window. "You would look beautiful in this one, darling."
Hermione cringed at the yards of lace and tulle flowing off the dress, and the glittering gems adorning the bodice.
"I think I would like something a little more simple," Hermione said gently, opening the door and ushering her mother through.
The rest of their group was already there. Molly and Ginny were perusing the various gowns and robes on display, while Fleur shooed Victoire out from under the dresses being modeled by mannequins. As Hermione and her mother stepped further into the shop a chirpy, middle-aged woman with dirty blonde hair bustled around the corner to greet them.
"Hello! You must be Miss Granger, our bride-to-be! My name is Hilda and I'll be helping you choose your perfect dress today!"
"Nice to meet you, Hilda. Please call me Hermione," Hermione said, reaching out to shake Hilda's hand. "This is my mother, Margaret."
"Wonderful," Hilda said, clapping her hands together in excitement. "I've already had the pleasure of meeting the others here, so let's get right down to business, shall we?" She raised her wand and with a swish, a tray of glasses, filled with white wine, floated in from the back room. Each of them took a glass and Hilda motioned for them to take a seat on the oversized couch that was situated in front of the changing room. "First thing we need to do is cut our choices in half. Are you looking for a dress or robes for your big day, dear?"
"I know robes tend to be the wizarding tradition," Hermione started, smiling at Molly, "but ever since I was little I always imagined a beautiful, white, wedding gown."
"Perfect," Hilda said, jotting down notes on her parchment. She flicked her wand and the racks of wedding gowns glided forward, while the racks with robes rolled back behind purple, velvet curtains. "Now, I know each bride has her own personal vision, but I encourage all of my customers to try on several different cuts and styles. Not every dress looks the same on every woman, of course. So, if you're comfortable with it, Hermione, I would like you to head to the changing room and we'll pick out a few to start getting an idea of what you like and don't."
"Okay," Hermione agreed. She took her glass of wine and made her way the large square room hidden behind a black curtain. Setting her glass aside, she stripped down to her bra and knickers. It wasn't long before Hilda joined her, with five dresses floating in her wake.
"Your family is having a lot of fun picking out gowns for you," she laughed, as Hermione stepped into the first dress.
She was correct to assume that this experience was going to be exhausting. Just when Hermione got through trying on one set of gowns, someone was shoving another set into her changing room. Every few minutes she would emerge from the room to oohs and ahhs as she made her way to the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror.
"Oh, sweetheart!" her mother gushed, fluffing out the puffy skirt of an elaborate ball gown style dress. "You look beautiful in this one!"
Hermione smiled. Margaret had said this about every dress she tried on.
"It's nice, but it's just too much," Hermione said, swishing from side to side, attempting to move about underneath all the fabric. "No more ball gowns, please. I don't want to spend my wedding day hauling around five stones of fabric."
She shuffled back into the changing room and couldn't help but groan as she shed that dress and started pulling on the next one handed to her. She wasn't paying much attention to the dress until she felt how tight it was as she pulled it down, over her hips. Glancing down, she saw the dress was akin to spandex, hugging every bit of skin on her body, with a slit running the whole way up her legs, stopping just short of her bum. The top didn't leave much to the imagination either.
"Ginny!" Hermione cried out. "I know you picked this one! Are you out of your mind? I can't wear this in front of all my friends and family."
"You said you wanted something non-frilly and simple," Ginny called back. "Come out so we can see it!"
"Absolutely not!"
Hermione needed the assistance of Hilda to peel the dress off and back over her head. Once it was off, she collapsed against the wall, blowing curls out of her face.
"That's it," she huffed. "I don't think I can handle anymore."
"Hermione?" Fleur's melodic voice called from the other side of the curtain. "I found one more that I think would be nice on you."
She passed the dress to Hilda, who helped Hermione step into it and zipped up the back.
"Oh my," Hilda whispered, smoothing out the train. "Go have a look!" she urged excitedly.
Hermione immediately liked that she could easily walk in this gown and had no trouble stepping up, onto the pedestal. As soon as she saw her reflection, Hermione knew that this would be the dress she'd be leaving with.
It was an ivory, off-the-shoulder, mermaid style satin gown. An ivory lace overlay, adorned with appliques and beads, gave the dress amazing dimension and ran all the way to the floor, creating a beautiful train that was just the perfect length for Hermione not to trip over.
"Min, if you don't choose this one immediately, you're insane," Ginny whispered as she slowly walked around Hermione. "You look absolutely stunning and will leave Fred completely gobsmacked."
Hermione turned to look at Margaret and Molly. "What do you think?" she asked.
"It's the one," Margaret said, trying to hold back a sob as tears ran down her cheeks.
"Oh, mum, please don't cry," Hermione said, rushing over to hug her mother.
"I can't help it. You look so beautiful and all grown up!" she cried. "I feel you went from my little girl to this amazing woman in the blink of an eye!"
"No matter how many children you have, this moment doesn't get any easier," Molly choked, cupping her hand over her mouth.
Hermione smiled, waved her over, and wrapped an arm around her second mother.
"Hug!" Victoire squealed and latched onto Hermione's leg.
Once the mothers pulled themselves together, Hermione went with Hilda to let her do some measuring and quick alterations before sending them all on their way.
"Don't hesitate to come back if you need any other alterations done closer to the day of," Hilda insisted as they filed out of the store. "Just send me an owl and we'll set an appointment!"
They all called out, "Thank you!" several times as they pushed out onto the busy Diagon Alley streets. It had started snowing and the cobbled walks and building were already coated with a fresh coating of flakes.
Despite Victoire's protests, Fleur said goodbye and apparated to Shell Cottage so she could relieve Bill of baby duty and put Victoire down for a nap. The rest proceeded to slip and slide their way to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
"You found a dress!" Angelina shouted when they walked in.
"Yes," Hermione breathed, pulling her hat off and performing a quick drying spell on her and her mother. Not waiting for Hermione, Margaret pushed into the crowd and started making her way up and down the aisles, studying all of the twins' products. Molly followed along with her, so Hermione and Ginny maneuvered their way through the crowd to the counter. "It was a long process, but we finally found the dress."
"I can't wait to see it tonight!" Angelina said, handing change to one customer and then starting to ring up the next.
"Why don't you show us now?" George asked, sneaking up behind Hermione and trying to open the dress bag. Ginny gave his hand a swift slap and Hermione pulled the dress closer to her chest. "Ow! What was that for?"
"You don't get to see it," Ginny informed.
"Why? I'm not the one marrying her. It's not bad luck for the brother of the groom to see the dress."
"Because you'll end up telling Fred all about it. You can wait until May with everyone else," Hermione said.
"You can tell him all about the dress I had picked out for her," Ginny said with an evil smile.
"Gin, that wasn't a dress. That was lingerie."
"Now I am intrigued. Tell me more about that one," George said, leaning against the counter and looking at Hermione expectantly.
"Don't worry, Min. I'll beat him for you later," Angelina said.
"Yeah, she will," George said with a wink. He scurried off before Hermione or his sister could slap him.
"This place is amazing," Margaret said, walking up and taking George's place. "I can't believe they created all of this stuff by themselves."
"They had some outside help on a few things," Hermione muttered, but her mother paid no attention.
"You must be so proud, Molly," Margaret said, smiling at Molly.
"I can't say Arthur and I were entirely pleased in the beginning, but they've certainly put all their years of mischief to good use."
"Remember when you tried to put them in detention for testing products on first years, Min?" Ginny laughed.
"I remember," George said as he headed back to the stockroom. "Detention never scared us, though."
"My memory's a bit fuzzy, Georgie," Hermione said, leaning on the counter and fixing her eyes on George. "What was it that did scare you?"
George's eyes narrowed at Hermione and he chanced a quick glance at his mum. "Just you wait, Granger. Fred and I haven't chosen what product we're going to test on you yet."
"You help test their stuff, Hermione?" Margaret asked, with genuine curiosity.
"I don't know if 'help' is quite the right word," Hermione said slowly, matching George's half-smile.
"Well, whatever you want to call it, I'm so glad I finally got to experience the shop. You young men are very clever," Margaret said, patting George's cheek.
"That's the consensus of all the beautiful women," George replied with a wink, before disappearing behind the stockroom curtain.
"That man is shameless," Angelina muttered.
Ginny decided to stay and help at the shop for the final few hours, so Hermione, Margaret, and Molly flooed back to The Burrow to start prepping for dinner.
When they arrived, Arthur had James bundled up and was pulling him around the back garden on a wooden sledge. There wasn't really much to do in the way of dinner preparations. They were mainly having Christmas dinner leftovers, so they set aside some fresh vegetables to cook and then ended up making some cookies while finalizing the wedding guest list.
As Molly was pulling a tray of sugar cookies from the oven, the back door opened and a chilling gust of wind blew through, followed by Arthur and James.
"Mih! Mih!" James squealed, holding his arms out towards Hermione.
Hermione smiled at the rosy-cheeked little boy. He was growing so fast and his babbles had started to take on meaning. Mama was his favorite, of course, but there was also 'Mih' for Min and 'Ay Ay' for mémé in his current vocabulary. James had yet to take any independent steps, but holding onto the furniture the kid could zoom around a room in a flash.
"Let's get you warmed up, little one," Hermione cooed, snuggling James tightly as she made her way to the living room.
As soon as she got his last sock on, James rolled over and crawled away. He quickly returned with Harry's Chocolate Frog card that Hermione had charmed for him over the summer. Since a few teeth had popped through, James had stopped chewing and drooling on it as much and picture Harry had started staying in frame longer. He'd pull silly faces until James got over excited and started smacking the card on the floor or table in glee. That usually led to picture Harry disappearing for a few hours.
"Da!" James said, holding the card above his head. "Da!"
"Da?" Hermione repeated in surprise.
"Da!" James held the card out to Hermione.
"Yeah, you're right. That's your daddy. Mama is going to be so excited when she hears that."
"Mama?" James said, looking at the fireplace.
"Soon," Hermione laughed. She scooped James up and carried him into the kitchen. Just as she was securing him in his highchair, a familiar chant from outside drew her attention. She let out a soft chuckle and looked over at her mum, who wore the same amused look.
"We really should have known," Margaret sighed, shaking her head.
Hermione hurried outside and the figures of Fred and her father were visible coming up the drive, singing very loudly and horribly offkey.
"As we journey on,
We will sing this song,
For the boys in royal blue,
We're often partisan,
We will journey on,
Keep right on to the end of the road,
Keep right on to the end."
It was a song that Hermione heard every week, when her father's favorite football team, Birmingham City, played. Every now and then, Jonathan would be able to talk Hermione into attending a match with him and she'd inevitably sing along with the rest of the drunken fans. It had been years since she last heard it, but hearing the words now instantly conjured memories of stale lager and bitter disappointment for her dad's beloved Blues.
Hermione smiled as they drew closer and she could see their matching blue hats and scarves. She didn't even have to ask how the match went. It was obvious Birmingham had secured a win and her father had treated Fred to a traditional pub after party to throw back some pints and rehash the game.
"Hello, darling," Jonathan greeted, wrapping Hermione in a hug.
"Hi." She kissed her father's cheek and asked, "I take it the match went well?"
"Brilliant! Kenna tied it in the eighty-first minute and then Forssell buried it in the eighty-seventh for the win." Jonathan gave Fred's shoulder a nudge and continued, "This lad fit right in. Would've never guessed it was the first match he ever saw. Your mother inside?"
"Yup, dinner should be just about ready."
"Smashing." He kissed the top of Hermione's head and strode into the house.
Hermione turned to Fred, whose cheeks were as rosy as James, but for completely different reasons.
"Well, look at you. All Muggled up, half sozzled, and not tossed off a cliff," she laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I honestly just had the best day with your dad. How come you never told me how fun football was?" Fred said in disbelief.
"All these years you've known me, have I ever seemed the sporty type?"
"True. I definitely have to get tickets for me and George to go to a match. After the baby is born, that is." Fred took a step and wobbled slightly, causing Hermione to laugh and clutch him tighter.
"Let's go get some food in you before your mother takes notice of your drunken state."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
February 2004
Aunt Muriel is dying, again. Bill came and got the girls and George took the boys to the shop with him and Fred. I'll hopefully only be gone a few days, but here are the rest of the items that need to be finalized for the wedding. See you soon!
xxx
Molly
Hermione sank back into her office chair and looked at everything that was spread across her desk. Wedding invitations, pictures of flower arrangements and cakes, three rings of color swatches, and a large chilled box of cake samples.
She had tried looking through all of the samples, but after several minutes the colors and flowers all seemed to blend together. The temptation was strong to just close her eyes and choose it all at random, no matter how well the choices went together.
Hermione looked at the clock. Technically, she still had an hour left to the work day, but she had mentally checked out long ago. She waved her wand over her desk and the wedding items stacked themselves onto a precarious pile. Hermione locked up her office, carefully picked up the pile, and made her way through the floo, straight to George and Angelina's apartment.
The sight that greeted her, down in the shop, was one of the most adorable things that she had ever seen. Fred was behind the till with James strapped to his back. George was helping customers on the floor, with new baby Rory strapped to his chest. Rory William, barely a month old, was fast asleep in the baby carrier. James, now a full a year old, was happily babbling at customers while smacking Fred upside the head and grabbing fistfuls of hair.
Hermione slid behind the counter, and set down her stack of wedding supplies, as Fred finished up with his final customer of the moment.
"Mih!" James squealed, slapping the top of Fred's head excitedly.
Hermione smiled up at him and gave his cheek a gentle pinch. When she turned to Fred, her smile faltered.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sweeping a stray lock of hair from her face.
"You wanna go to Vegas?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"What?"
"How about Niagara Falls? Or Fiji! Let's go to Fiji."
"Love, I will take you wherever your heart desires. Would you like to first tell me why you have this spontaneous need to travel the world?"
Hermione sighed and shoved the wedding stack towards him. "I don't want to do this," she whined. She let her head drop into her hands and muttered, "George was the smartest of us all…"
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger. Could you repeat that please?"
Hermione looked up into George's smug face. She pursed her lips, then said, "You and Ang did the smart thing. You eloped and avoided all of this planning nightmare."
"Here, you take Jamie, boy," Fred said, turning around, "and let me have a look at all of this."
"You want to coordinate the colors and flowers and seating charts and cake designs?" Hermione warily asked as she unstrapped James from Fred's back.
"Sure. You think this shop designed itself?" Fred answered, pulling the samples and pictures to him. "Plus, at the end of it all, we get to eat cake."
"Count me in," George said, settling onto the stool beside his brother. "Hand me the guest list, Freddie. I'll start mocking up a seating chart. The only person you really have to be strategic with it Auntie Muriel."
"If she lives that long," Hermione said, letting out a morose chuckle.
George waved her comment off. "That old bat is gonna outlive us all."
Hermione shook her head and set James down. He started toddling away and Hermione followed, letting the twins alone to do their thing.
James slowly walked up and down each aisle, poking his little fingers at the various items, but showing incredible restraint at not pulling everything off the shelves. As he got to the front of the store, his attention was diverted to the front windows. With quick steps, James made his way to the windows on the left and started slapping the glass. His excited squeals garnered the attention of the blackbirds pecking around the puddles of melting snow, but they quickly went back to foraging and preening.
When the allure of the birds waned, James started back up an aisle, but this time showed a new air of confidence. He grabbed boxes and jars off the shelves with lightning speed. Just as Hermione was retrieving one thing and putting it back in its place, James was giggling and pulling something else down. In his haste to escape Hermione he tried to break out in a run, but promptly wobbled and fell down on his diaper-clad bum. Tears immediately started flowing, but Hermione was sure they were due more to disappointment and not pain.
"Aww, it's okay buddy," Hermione soothed. She picked James up and his crying stopped at once. "Let's see what you were trying to nick, Mister Potter."
Hermione gently tried to pry the object from James' hands. When he tried to pull it back, Hermione ended up on the receiving end of a Boxing Telescope. She yelped in pain, causing James to start crying again.
"Min? What's wrong?" Fred called out.
"I'm fine," she assured. Grabbing a fresh jar of bruise paste, she bounced a whimpering James on her hip and made her way back to the counter.
"What hap.." Fred trailed off as he looked up and caught sight of Hermione's swollen eye. "Oooh, shit." He reached over and took James, who was still holding onto the telescope.
"I don't understand how those are one of your best selling products," Hermione groused, scooping a dollop of yellow paste from the jar and dabbing it around her eye.
"We like to think of them as a friendship test," George said, not looking up from the seating chart parchment. "If you give one of them to your friend and they're still your friend afterward, you know they really like you."
"Then you two should never doubt how much I love you both." Hermione wiped the excess goo from her finger onto George's sleeve.
"Tell me what you think about this," Fred said, laying out his chosen samples in front of her.
"Oh," Hermione said, surprised by his decisions.
"Is that a good 'oh' or an 'I can't believe I'm marrying this fool- oh'?"
She laughed and shook her head. "It's a pleasantly surprised, oh."
Fred had gone with a deep red color theme and forgone the lavish bouquets of lilies and orchids, instead opting for red and white roses. The cake was four layers, with a cascade of red roses winding down and around. His invitation design was a bit bolder, with the deep red as the background and white script announcing the date of their impending nuptials.
"It's very simple and elegant. I love it," Hermione insisted, running her fingers over their names on the invitation.
"Mum included a packet of a bunch of cake toppers, but I wasn't sure if we wanted one or not," Fred said, showing her the booklet. "I think the tiny bride and groom figurines are too cheesy." Hermione nodded in agreement, watching a cliched groom figure struggling against the bride's grip on his collar. "I thought maybe just a large W would be nice, but I wasn't sure if you were planning on taking the Weasley name. I remembered you telling Viktor, in my jealous haze, that you wanted to keep the name Granger, so maybe we can go with G-W or we could just top it with F and H. Or we could-"
Hermione pressed her fingertips to his lips, silencing his rambling. She quickly kissed him and said, "I love you."
Fred grinned and tucked the booklet away. "I guess we don't have to pick that right now."
"No, we can table that decision," Hermione agreed.
"And now, cake!" Fred declared, waving his wand and restacking the pile of samples and swatches. He set James on the counter and pulled the box of cake samples to him. "What do you think, Jamie?" he asked, pulling the top off of the box.
"Ooooo," James said softly, reaching a chubby hand out for the closest piece.
"Not yet," Hermione said, pulling the hand away. "We need to make sure we're actually taking our time and tasting these, not just devouring twelve slices of cake in five minutes."
"Leave it to you to put a rule on cake eating," George said.
"I'm not putting- nevermind. I just want us to taste each slice at the same time so we can make an informed decision." Hermione eyed the labels stuck into each piece. "I can tell you right now, number five is out. No sane person makes their wedding cake out of carrot cake."
"Here ya go, James. All yours, buddy." Fred put the slice of carrot cake on a plate and set it in front of James, who eagerly grabbed a fistful and shoved it into his mouth.
While James happily ate the rejected slice, the twins and Hermione started in on the rest, each taking small bites and letting out small noises of satisfaction. At piece number eight, Fred started gagging and conjured a glass of water to immediately gulp down.
"Coconut," he wheezed between gulps. "No coconut!"
Piece number nine though caused some bickering as they all fought for second and third bites.
"Oi! Stick to your side!" George cried, pushing Hermione's fork away with his.
"This is my side!"
At that time, Ginny arrived and squeezed herself in. Conjuring her own fork, she said, "All right, what are we havin'?
"Go ahead, have this last bite," Hermione urged, blocking the twins' now dueling forks. Ginny snagged the cake and chewed thoughtfully. "What do you think?"
"Heavenly," Ginny said, still chewing and savoring the cake. "What is it?"
"Almond cake with a hazelnut mousse filling," Hermione answered.
"I don't know. It's good, but I think the lemon cake was better," Fred said, pointing to the remains of slice four.
Ginny ate the last bit of that piece and shook her head. "Your taste buds are broken, Freddy." She looked over at her son, covered in buttercream frosting and licking crumbs from his fingers. "What reject piece did you pawn off on the kid?"
"Carrot cake."
"Good call."
The final pieces of cake were good, but in the end, they all unanimously claimed the almond hazelnut cake the victor. Ginny gave her 'best friend approval' to the other designs, then took James home for a bath. Hermione sent an owl off with all their finalized choices while George put the final touches on the seating chart.
"Here, Min. Have a look at this." George handed the parchment to Hermione.
Hermione glanced over the drawings of tiny, round tables and the names scrawled around them.
"Why did you put Muriel here?" Hermione asked, pointing to a front, corner table.
"If you try and put her in the back, she'll raise hell. Put her front and center and you'll make her feel too integral and she'll get an inflated ego. Here," George explained, pointing at the table. "she's near the front, with family, which will satisfy that need for her. I put her with Bill and Percy because Bill is her favorite and Percy is constantly sucking up to her, so they get along great."
"Wow, you really put some thought into all of this. It looks great. Thank you so much, George!"
"Anytime, love. Now, I'm going to take this little one upstairs because I believe I hear the pitter patter of mummy."
Hermione kissed the soft curls on little Rory's head and said goodbye to George. She turned her attention back to the parchment, scanning the familiar names. Her parents' names were beside Molly and Arthur's at the table right beside the head table. The names at the head table made her throat grow tight and a tear slip down her cheek.
"What's wrong?" Fred asked.
Hermione laid the parchment down and pointed to Harry and Ron's names next to her's.
"Don't worry,' he whispered, running his hand through her hair. "They won't be gone forever."
A/N- I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. All of the football talk is accurate to Birmingham City's 2003-2004 season. Pretty sure I broke my husband's heart, a diehard Liverpool fan, when he saw me looking up BCFC's stats and chants! I thought I would have Hermione's dad convert Fred to a Birmingham fan because IRL James Phelps is a Birmingham supporter. Also, points to anyone that catches the few pop culture referances I threw into this chapter :D